I Have Money On This Game

I was fortunate enough to grow up in a family where I had cousins that lived close and cousins that visited often. On one of these great "get together" events, we went to go watch one of the local college basketball games. If I recall correctly, it was the first time I had been to such an enormous event. There was certainly two facts I learned when I walked into the arena; I was small and it was huge! I don't remember much of the game, but I do remember me, my two older brothers and some boy cousins getting permission to go get a drink, or go to the bathroom or whatever excuse it was to get a break from sitting down for so long. Apparently, we were very interested in the game. The main hall that circled the arena was empty leaving it to us to do as we please. I believe we circled the building a couple of times running and walking acting like we somehow owned it. The time came though where everyone was getting tired so we actually stopped for a break at a drinking fountain. Now being the youngest amongst this group, I was always last at doing this or doing that and at times had to forgo somethings I wanted to do. Well, it was my time to get a drink and the group started yelling at me letting me know they were taking off. I firmly held my ground and reached up and got a drink at the fountain, yep I was quite young and short. After feeling refreshed and content I held my ground, I looked up and I was all alone. I laughed it off thinking, my brothers and cousins hid themselves somewhere, but after a while it was clear that I was on my own not having a clue where to go. I must have had that "oh crap" look on my face because it wasn't long before a person that worked there asked me if I was lost. I was embarrassed to admit it, but was glad I had been found. This gentleman took me to the nearest usher and asked him to help me find my family. I will never forget the usher's response, "Really? Can't you get somebody else? I have money on this game." I can't tell you how awesome that made me feel. I can't remember how I eventually ended up with my family, but was surprised at some reactions. My sweet mom of course gave me a huge hug, but an uncle of mine got on my case pretty good for getting lost. After that he truly dropped down the list of my favorite uncles. Yes, I had made a choice to get a drink and not follow the group as they took off ... that was on me. I would take my mom's response any day though. As far as the usher, I hope he lost his bet.

Through out the battle with depression, I have found it difficult to really describe what it feels like and does to me. On some occasions as I have attempted to do so talking to some good friends, I have gotten the response, "it sounds like you have forgotten who you are?" I would agree to that at first, but always felt uncomfortable about it and didn't know why. Now, if someone tells me that I kindly inform them they are wrong and here is why. To me, forgetting who you are comes with making choices that lead you down different roads of travel that take you away from "who you were." For example, I may have been quite the gifted magician, but if I stop performing or practicing I lose my skill/touch and become more familiar with the man that used to do magic. Another example, if you are a Bible reader, The Prodigal Son is a great example. A son that gets his wealth and spends it unwisely forgetting who we was. In both examples, it was the choice of the individual leading them down a road where they forgot who they were. I DID NOT PICK DEPRESSION nor have I forgotten who I "was." I remember him too well. In fact remembering "that person" can hurt because I want to be able to do those things I used to be able to do, yet I have come to terms that dealing with today's battle is where my focus needs to be. To quote my dear usher friend back at the basketball arena, "I have money on this game." I've got everything riding on me that I will get this war of depression under control, by winning daily battle after daily battle and eventually win the war an enjoy winning the bet.

The Magic Box

If you know anything about me you know that I am a huge fan of Christmas. If you don't know me it wouldn't take you too long to figure it out. Yep, Christmas music all year long. I have such fond memories of Christmas growing up. My sweet mom went to tremendous lengths to make it magical for her kids and she was always so successful. I recall one Christmas when technology entered our house. Santa brought to our home a Computer and some magic box called a Microwave. The computer was pretty cool. An older brother of mine did all sorts of stuff with it but it came alive to me when I found out we could plug in our joy sticks from the Atari and play games. The computer just wasn't my thing though ... perhaps that's why I am so awesome with computers. Now, the microwave was a thing of beauty. I was amazed that I could take some Hickory Farms cheese, place it on a cracker and put it in this microwave thing and boom melted cheese within seconds. Oh and then to be able to heat up water for hot chocolate. Wow. You had to be kidding me! No more freezing your tookus off while waiting for water to boil on the stove. I probably drove my sweet mom crazy by all the "cooking" I did that Christmas day ... if you call melting cheese on a cracker cooking. I had no clue behind the logic of how it actually worked but to me it was hitting a couple of buttons and then ... heaven.

I have felt so many frustrations as I have fought severe depression. The thick darkness was / is so consuming and as I began to fight back I felt like I lost 99.9% of the battles. Why does one want to keep fighting with that incredible winning ratio? I was meeting with my psychologist and what he was saying and teaching me made perfect logical sense but applying it or striving to live it was a whole other thing. I began to get so frustrated because it was all so clear of what coping techniques I needed to do or how I needed to change some way of thinking but actually doing them was something I simply couldn't do. I saw the benefit of them but depression has a powerful way of holding you down like a heavy anchor. The line of "can't" and "not trying" became very blurred to me. I really began to give up in myself because I felt like I wasn't trying. "What good am I if I can't even try" would echo through out my mind and heart. Life is so dark when you feel you have lost your purpose and don't love yourself. I honestly don't know when the shift in thought began to happen but I began to see and realize that it wasn't a lack of effort but the illness. I can't tell you how or why but all I can say is that depression for me is like running the mile in deep thick tar. Progress happens but can be so slow! My psychologist asked me the other day what I would tell myself if I was able to give me advice starting all over. I simply said "patience". Even though things are so fast with results these days, like a beautiful thing like a Microwave. I am striving to be comfortable with knowing warming up water for hot chocolate on the stove is okay.